


An angry sea

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bruce and Loki talking mostly, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jotun Loki, Loki Angst, Loki Has Issues, References to Depression, bit of Loki whump, they talk so much it got a bit out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 08:05:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Set somewhere in Ragnarok, I guess.Bruce finds Loki nearly bled out has a little heart to heart with him about being monsters, and having low moments.Edging towards Bruce and Loki friendship, mostly dialogue and feels





	An angry sea

Loki said goodbye too quickly after the battle that evening, and even if he had said that he was just tired and wanted a good night's rest before the excitement of the next day. But Bruce suspected there was something else there, something he wasn't saying, and he was not going to let a known criminal fool him so easily. Loki was a liar by nature, he could easily just by working with them only to get to known them better, and betray in a moment that they needed him the most. 

Well, if he thought he could use this night to concoct his villainous plan, if he thought that just because he had helped in that evening's battle their guard would be down, well, he was wrong. Bruce wasn't going to let anything bad happen to his newfound team, and if he had to snoop on a god of mischief instead of have dinner, then that was what he would do. 

Any other time he would have felt bad about going into someone's room uninvited and at night, but not when their safety was at stake, and not when he was sure this was going to be the key to unlock a conspiracy and save them a lot of grief. Loki was doing something terrible in there, he was sure, and Bruce would find evidence. He wouldn't have a traitor on his team, specially not now that things were getting more intense, more serious. He needed to trust all of his team mates, and unfortunately, that included Loki. 

When he opened Loki's door, he smelled blood, and inmediately assumed the worst. Loki had killed somebody, or several people and he had to stop him... But no. There was no one else but him, Loki, sitting on the floor of the room, his back to the wall, his legs wet with what could be assumed to be blood, one of his hands also drenched in his midsection, and he was looking out the window, seemingly letting himself bleed out on the floor. 

What....?

Was all that blood his? If he was that badly hurt, why hadn't he told anyone?

And then Bruce noticed. His skin was much darker than it should be, and there were some marks crossing it. He wasn't looking at him, but there was a crimson reflection in his eyes. His whole body seemed to have turned... blue. And red eyed. Bruce remembered something that Thor told him about Loki being a different species, but he hadn't known just how deep their differences ran. Curious. 

“What happened to you?” Bruce asked, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't supposed to be there. 

Loki was clearly startled, and directed his red gaze to Bruce. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, surprised but not as angry as Bruce would have expected.

“I smellt blood, I was concerned you were killing someone in here. So, what happened?”

Loki resumed looking out of the window as if nothing was going on. 

“Nothing happened to me. This is my true form.” He was slurring the words slightly, and didn't seem to be completely there. That was not what Bruce had meant. 

“I meant, why are you bleeding?”

“An old wound reopened on the battle. Nothing to concern yourself about.” 

So that was why he had bolted so quickly. Probably hadn't said anything not wanting to seem weak in front of his unscathed brother. Maybe his pride was not completely logical, (it was perfectly normal to get injured while fighting) but Bruce kind of understood. There was something about Thor that made you constantly want to impress him, be as cool as him. 

“Now that you know no one has been murdered, you can leave.” Loki said, coolly, as if the fact that he was bleeding out on his bedroom floor was not important.

“Let me take a look at that wound.” Bruce said, trying to ignore the almost casual way in which Loki was handling being sitting in a pool of his own blood. During the day, with the others, he'd been so confident, so giddy, cracking jokes and tricking enemies, Bruce had thought he was happy oh so happy...but now. Now he saw in his eyes what he'd seen on his own for the longest time. The pain. The exhaustion. The hurt and despair. He went to check the wound, partly to distract himself, but Loki stopped him. 

“Don't -” Loki's red eyes which had been slightly unfocused, suddenly became fearful, focused. _Don't look at me, don't see me like this, don't..._ “don't touch. This... _skin_ freezes whatever it touches. Your hands would freeze.”

Bruce had noticed the amount of disgust in Loki's voice when he had said the word skin, the same he used when he said that that was his true form. It was clear that he wanted him out because he didn't want anyone to see him blue. Ah, the familiar scent of self loathing. There had been none of that when Loki had been in New York, or maybe they hadn't been looking. It was clear Loki was a better actor than he thought.

“Worried about me?” Bruce asked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Worried you'll get angry. I would rather not have to face that tonight.”

Bruce nodded. The Hulk appearing would benefit neither of them, and he was tired enough as it was. Maybe he should do as Loki had said, and simply leave him. But there was something off about the whole situation, and he knew that if he left, he wasn't going to be able to sleep. 

“There has to be something I can do, some way I can help. Someone must have some leather gloves or something, so I can touch do and fix that a bit. I'll be back.”

Loki didn't think that Doctor Banner would be back, and he was glad about it. It was shameful enough to have someone see him like this, he didn't need the Doctor meddling in his wound as well. He hadn't known it would be this bad, he hadn't thought it would cause him to lose.... to change back... It was painful to even think, after so long hiding, after so long wearing that skin that he was able to recognize as his own, even if it wasn't truly him. 

It happened a couple of other times as well, when he was too weak or sick. Before, he hadn't known that his face was a glamour, so it hadn't occurred to him to lower it to use his energy to heal. But now he knew, and sometimes he changed back, and it was nearly impossible to change back until he was recovered. Which meant he was stuck in that hideous body, at least for a while. He was always afraid, even if it was not logical, that he'd be stuck like this forever. That he would have live and die in the skin of this monster.

This last time had been too much of a shock. There had been a mirror in the washroom where he was going to fix his wound when he caught a glimpse of his reflection, blue, dark, a monster looking back at him. It had taken him too long to realise that no one else was there with him, that that was him. Him but not just him, the embodiment of all the things that he hated, that he had tried to forget. 

He'd always been good at hiding behind other's people's faces, sometimes just to confuse an enemy, or get some information, other times just for fun. For a long time, he posed as Odin and had basked on the love and respect of others. People looking at him with admiration, with something akin to love. He knew that had he made the same choices and said the same things as Loki, he wouldn't have been praised, but criticised and suspected. 

He guessed he deserved that, it was his own fault. It still hurt. 

Now he didn't even have his face to face the world, but the face of some monster, a jotun runt that was supposed to die in a frozen wasteland as an infant. How could he not lie to others, when the whole construction of his life, of his identity, of his sense of self had been nothing but a lie? What gave Odin the right to lie to his own son all his life and still be respected, while he was scorned? 

And what was worse, Frigga had lied to him his whole life too. She who had been his anchor, the one person who didn't mock him for his frailty, who encouraged his magic, the one person that truly understood him, must have agreed on some level that he needed to be protected from the truth, because the truth was too gruesome. The truth, under all those layers of deceit was that he was an abomination, not good enough for even the most savage of creatures. 

Without thinking, he punched the mirror, shattering the image of the jotun in front of him. But it only made him feel worse, and made his hand bleed, which would only make the healing process slower. In that moment, Loki didn't feel like facing himself or even healing himself, so he merely sat with his back to a wall, and looked at the sky through the window, for a moment forgetting himself and imagining he was a dashing warrior like Thor, waiting for his horde of companions to escort him to a feast in his honour.  

Ah, sweet oblivion.... 

-

When Bruce came back, packed with a pair of leather gloves, some water and some cloth he could use to bandage Loki's wounds, as well as some other semi-medical supplies, in case he needed to stitch something (which weren't easy to get, specially because he didn't want to ask Thor, who was generally his guide here, but then Thor would ask, and would probably want to see Loki and Bruce had a suspicion that Loki didn't want anyone to see him like he was) the smell of blood was stronger, and the pool under Loki was bigger. His eyes were closed and the head was slumped to the side. Shit. 

Bruce put on the leather gloves and tucked his shirt under them, to avoid any contact. And got to work. 

“Loki?” He cupped the cheeks carefully. “I'm going to take off your shirt to see the wound, ok?”

The wound was long, big and vertical and covered a good part of Loki's abdomen. He'd been impaled by something, it would seem, not recently, but it had been severe. Bruce didn't know why an old wound would open like that, maybe because of some spells or curse or something. He sighed. His alien anatomy knowledge was very limited, and when there was magic involved... Everything was too complicated. In the pale light of the night Loki seemed thinner, smaller, more fragile somehow. Or maybe it was the big bleeding wound that gave him that look. 

Bruce thought about how different this Loki was from the one they had been fighting with. Gone were the humour, the confidence, the cockiness... Maybe as different as shy Bruce Banner and the very determined Hulk were. _We all hide under different masks_ , he thought, as he gently cleaned the wound in Loki's stomach and hand with the water, and then bandaged them lightly. It was a pleasant task, after the lights, the colour, the endless banter and action of the day. It was nice being in the dark, on the floor, doing something simple and easy. 

Not wanting to go back to his room (he enjoyed the peace here), Bruce simply sat next to the passed out Loki, not caring if he got alien blood on his pants. Bruce thought about the new friends he'd made, about this strange but exciting new place, about the people he'd left back home. After a while, he noticed that Loki was still bleeding through the bandages.  _What a great job you've done_ , Bruce told himself. 

“Hey, hey.” This time, he managed to wake Loki up. “You're bleeding too much. Shouldn't you be able to use magic to heal yourself?”

“I am.” Loki answered, a bit dumbfounded that Banner was back in his room. 

“So what's the holdup?”

Loki looked at him confused. 

“If you can heal yourself, why aren't you? It's been hours. Should I call Thor? He'll know of any, what do you call them here, healers-”

“No. I can handle it.” Loki interrupted, taking in everything. He had realised the he had fainted.

“Then why aren't you? Handling it?” It was clearly none of his business, but Bruce thought maybe he could use this chance to get to know his team mate better. And then he ventured a guess. “Are you choosing not to? Choosing not to heal yourself?”

Loki looked at his brother's friend, with an expression between curiosity and annoyance. Bruce just offered a sympathetic smile.

“It's okay, I get it. I've been there too. You're perfectly fine, and then the smallest thing sets off the big bad monster, and all the efforts, all the layers of protection you've built come undone and there is a little voice that tells you it would be easier if you were dead...”

“No one would hate you if you were dead.” Loki echoed, despite himself.

“No more monster, no more having to control it, or hide it...”

“But there are moments in which you can't hide anymore, and you come face to face with yourself. And it shouldn't be so painful.”

Loki looked at the hand that had smashed the mirror, and saw it bandaged. He didn't understand why the doctor was being so kind. None usually were with him. 

“Why did you help me?”

Bruce sighed. He wasn't completely sure about that, either. 

“I guess... Something about you reminds me of the way it used to be for me. The way people treat you, with fear, mistrust, almost... disgust, sometimes. The whole wide world having good reasons to want to keep you locked up, preferably dead. It used to be like that for me, too, until I started to use the Hulk for good.”

Wow, he was realising things as he spoke. _Will you look at that._

“But you're a hero now. Everybody loves heroes.”

“No, they don't. Children love the Hulk. Heads of federal agencies still want me locked up or dead.”

“Your friends wouldn't allow that to happen.” Loki said, bitter. He was always alone, the only times he was called was he was useful. Sometimes ( _always always always_ ) he longed for that kind of companionship, resented his brother for find it so easily, in every realm. 

“Yes, my friends.” A small smile “My friends... when I get... lost in my self loathing, my friends remind me that it's not who I am or what I am that's good or bad, but what I do. The potential of greatness that both Bruce and the Hulk have, the good they have already done. They remind me that not everyone see the Hulk as the horrible thing I've always considered him to be. They remind me to be gentle with myself... all of myself.”

Loki was back looking at the window now, but Bruce knew that he was getting somewhere. He didn't know when did this become such a deep conversation, didn't know why he was opening up like that with him, but he seemed to understand. The horror at seeing yourself in a skin that is not your own and yet is a part of you. The horror in people's face, the disgust at yourself. Shared experiences, but not something many people understood. A feeling of being alone in your monstrosity – alone and unfixable. 

But there was hope too, and good that could come out of it, and Bruce knew that first hand. 

“But I don't deserve gentleness. I am not only a monster, but a villain.” 

Loki didn't want to be saying these things, much less to this strange mortal. Maybe it was the blood loss. Maybe it was him trying to undo the lump on his throat, maybe he was touched by the fact that Banner had returned to tend to his injuries and stayed even after. Maybe it was the fact that no one before had taken the time to talk about his self worth issues with him before, and opened up about theirs.

“Yeah, and you're also alone, but you don't have to be. You can choose differently. I've faced many villains before and you're not just a villain, not just a monster there's much more to you than just that, more than New York. You can be something that you don't hate (and doesn't that simply sound awesome) and you can change their perception of you, and with time, your own. And that way you could have friends, too, and people to help you in your low moments. A support system.”

“I couldn't trust someone who knew me truly and still liked me. Nobody ever would.”

“Maybe they would, if you stopped hiding behing a million masks and making choices out of insecurity and bitterness. You think the only way people will love you is if you force them, but that never works. If you stop hiding with tricks and - “

“Maybe tricks are all I am. Maybe all I am is evil.”

Bruce half smiled. 

“It's possible, yes. I honestly don't believe that's true. I don't think you do, either. Look at me, one day I'm pounding you into a hole in the floor, another day I'm cleaning your wounds. We are all capable of change. And you've done some good things too, right? Jane told me you saved her from some black hole.That's not evil, not a trick.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, mostly through Avenger related science stuff. I wish she'd come this time too, I have to translate everything to Thor”

Loki stifled a laugh.Bruce continued. He was inspired. 

“What I am saying is... feeling like a monster is horrible, but much more horrible if you're alone. If you create one thousand personas and don't let them see the real you, you'll always be alone. No one will trust you. But if you... show yourself a bit, maybe the next time you have a low moment it won't be so bad.”

“I do not understand why you would want to help me.”

“The others, like Thor, they will never understand. This constant fight against oneself, this constant fight to accept yourself, much less love yourself. I do. I know how painful it can be, and maybe I just can't stand to see it. I... can offer some understanding. I can simply be here and tell you that it's okay to have bad moments, and rest from the whirlwind of pretending to be okay. I can also tell you to stop stalling and heal yourself already. Maybe the only thing you needed was a fellow monster to keep you from the edge.”

“It is not that easy.”

“It is never easy. It's a start.”

They stayed like that, in silence, sitting on the floor next to each other. Loki was slightly overwhelmed by all the things Banner had said, and how he had touched all of his weakest, most hidden spots and hadn't judged. A companion who understood suffering was something he had never had. The part about accepting (all of) himself, not hiding... That was harder. He would think about it when he wasn't so weak. Right now, he just wanted to rest for a million years. 

Bruce helped him to his bed, feeling proud of himself. If he accepted his help or not was up to Loki, but he felt he'd done the right thing offering, and looking after his wounds. He felt he understood Loki better now, and would it would be easier for him to work with the guy. Maybe he was just tricks and evilness, yeah, but... Maybe there was hope. 

Before he left, when Loki was already on the bed, Bruce said one last thing. 

“You probably won't care, but your blue? I think it's real beautiful. Like an angry sea, all big waves and currents on the outside, but home to so much life on the inside. I hope one day you'll learn to appreciate it.”

Almost asleep, eyes already closed, Loki drew a small smile. The metaphor pleased him more than it should. 

_ My name is Loki, and I am an angry sea. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Bruce and Loki should be friends, methinks 
> 
> If you liked, leave some feedback? You will make this author's day :)


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